||[Dec. 20th, 2005|01:25 pm]
|||||Hallelujah - Nick Cave||]|
I remember one hot lazy day at the beginning of last summer. I was sitting outside on the front porch, probably with a computer and a corona, watching the streams of people come and go. It was the kind of day where the air hums with a low murmur of content conversation, where moving is impossible, but it's that special kind of day where you can get away with it without feeling guilty.
Out of the corner of my eye I spied a taxi pulling up to a streetcorner, looking hopelessly out of place in the bright summer morning. On that corner the sun was a little too bright, the smiles a little too forced, the hugs a little too formal. A young couple stood with their heads placed close together, their misery casting a dark cloud onto the buzzing pavement. Passersby circumvented the two, their secret whispers and useless comforts apparent even from my vantage point.
With an almost theatrical misery (I'm sorry to use the word again, but there's just no better description) the girl disappeared into the taxi, but the tragedy still etched on the boy's face spoke enough for the both of them. Without any any indication or understanding of the heartbreak it was aiding the car pulled away silently, gliding into the oncoming traffic. The boy continued to watch after it until it became indistinguishable in the mass of automobiles, the significance of the moment quickly erased with the playful bursts of music and excited rapid-paced chatter of a passing group.
At the time I watched the two shamelessly, greedily, reveling and astounding at their dramatics. I even felt a little scorn. Their emotions seemed in excess, and such distress seemed absurdly impossible.